


You Won't Believe The Stories I've Been Told

by bottombitch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, F/M, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 22:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombitch/pseuds/bottombitch
Summary: Without any other options, Ashe is forced to whore herself out. Her first customer is the last person she would have expected it to be. Poll winner.





	You Won't Believe The Stories I've Been Told

Ashe's hands fumbled along her back, eventually tying together the strings that would hold her corset in place. She needed help, yet she wouldn't ask anybody for it, even if there was someone around to offer said help. She wasn't happy about the situation she'd gotten herself into. As she examined herself in the mirror before her, a knock on the door reminded her that she was on a schedule.

The decision to sell her body in a brothel hadn't been one she'd come to easily, and even when she realised that she'd have to, her pride resisted. Working as a prostitute was the lowest thing she could do, she thought, and yet with the failures of her gang resting on her shoulders, it almost seemed like a fitting punishment. She huffed, and then moved to sit on the bed, examining her legs one more time to make sure that all of these stupid fucking clothes were in place. Why couldn't she just sit there naked? It's not like the clothes were gonna stay on very long anyway. Total waste of her time.

As the door handle turned, she put on her bravest face, ready to make some money.

And as her client revealed himself, her jaw dropped.

Stood in the doorway was none other than Jesse McCree, the last person she would have wanted to walk through that door. Her surprise must have been obvious, because as he laid eyes on her, Jesse let out a slow chuckle, before shutting the door behind him.

"Well, well... what do we have here?" he asked, tipping his hat back as if to make sure that he was seeing things correctly. Ashe remained silent, even as he approached her. "Money must be real tight if you're workin' a gig like this, darlin'."

"I ain't your darlin'," Ashe snapped back instinctively.

"Well, actually, your buddy up front has some of my dollars that say ya are," Jesse told her. She had been expecting humiliation, in whatever form he could give it to her, but she would never have expected him to stick around. He took a seat on the bed beside her, and as her eyes followed him, wide with ongoing shock, he took off his hat, brushed some sand from the top onto the floor, and then placed it on the bedside table. As he sat back against the bed, resting against the headboard, he crossed one leg over the other and then looked at her with a smug shrug. "...darlin'."

Ashe was at a loss for words, but he was right, she knew. If she wanted to get paid — to keep this job, too — then she was going to have to... she shivered at the thought of what the end of that sentence might be, but Jesse seemed to have a pretty good idea already. She wondered whether he was at least going to allow her to take things slow, work at her own pace so as to not overwhelm herself, but she would have been a fool to think that the case.

After a couple of moments of silence, Jesse slid forward and stood up again, one finger extending towards her and gesturing for her to join him. She picked herself up from the bed, hating every moment. Standing before him, she looked him over, trying to figure out what he wanted from her exactly, beside the obvious, though with Jesse McCree the obvious often fell by the wayside. He wasn't a fan of convention. Subtly, he tipped his nose down towards the floor, only briefly, gesturing for her to get down onto her knees. She gave him a look that asked whether he was serious, but eventually did as he asked, sinking down to the floor.

She worried as to what he could be expecting her to do down here, from the obvious to the less-so. She glanced up at him, and noticed that his casual demeanour had disappeared completely. Now, he was staring at her with dominance in his eyes; a part of her felt compelled to follow whatever instructions he gave, though she didn't like that she felt that way. "Whatever you're wantin' me to do down here, hurry your ass up and come out with it. I don't got all day."

"You have however long I pay for," Jesse replied, without missing a beat, and before she could respond he continued. "Tilt your head back and open your mouth."

Ashe stared at him for a moment, unsure, and then opted to do as he said, tilting her head backward. She didn't open her mouth right away — it took her an extra couple of seconds to build up the will to do that — though she did eventually, slowly parting her lips, and then she opened her mouth wide. Jesse reached down and wrapped his hand around her chin. He wasn't being gentle with her, she could practically feel his fingers digging into her. He swished something around inside his mouth for a moment and then spat straight into her open mouth; it rolled along her tongue and down towards the back of her throat, making her sick to her stomach, though before she could spit it out he shut her mouth for her, and then clasped his hand over her forced-shut lips.

She looked up at him with a pleading expression. "Please don't make me swallow it," she attempted to beg, but only managed a mumble as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She felt so helpless. How had she gotten herself into this mess? She let out a sigh against his fingers, and then shut her eyes, blinking away tears before she looked at him again, trying to steel her gaze. He was going to remove his hand. He had to. Any moment n—

"Swallow," he demanded, his voice carrying far more weight than any she'd ever heard before. It was almost mesmerising, its tone tuning into the deepest parts of her mind. She swallowed without hesitation, and then yanked herself back in disgust, both at him and at herself. She could feel his spit sliding down her throat, and she wanted to vomit, but despite dry heaving nothing came. She heard Jesse move over towards the bed, and picked her head up again to glance over at him. He motioned for her to come over to him; no surprises there.

As she reached him, he shook his head. "You're not very good at following orders, are you?" he asked, patting his lap. She didn't know what he wanted at first, though she pieced it together pretty quickly, and her eyes widened as she shook her head.

"You can't actually expect me to—"

"Has anything I've said thus far given ya the impression that I'm kiddin' around here? Get over my fuckin' lap right now." Once again, the demanding, dominant tone sent a shiver along her spine. She didn't like how much she enjoyed being spoken to that way, least of all by him. She had seen herself as a dominant force, not only within her gang but generally speaking, and here was one of her biggest rivals turning her into little more than a whore. ...no, she reminded herself. She'd done that herself. It was her own fault that she was stood here. At least she had that, that final ounce of freedom...

She dropped herself onto the bed and moved across his lap, her almost-bare behind on display for him. He spat onto his palm and then rubbed his hands together, before running his hand along her back and over towards her ass. She knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. Was he going to force her to count the spanks? Was he going to ask her to call him master? In the end, he did neither, and his hand came crashing down against her behind alongside what was otherwise silence from him, and as he spanked her a second time, the stinging pain running throughout her entire lower body, he remained silent still. She didn't like it. She never would have thought that she'd want him to speak, but his silence was off-putting.

Perhaps he wasn't bothered about humiliating her, which was a relief. Further thoughts about what his motives could be were cut off by a third spank, which was immediately followed by a fourth, and then he ran his fingers along her barely-covered slit before applying a fifth. From there, she lost count of how many times her poor behind had been slapped, but she was sure that she'd have trouble sitting down for a while. He pulled her underwear aside and roughly jammed two fingers inside her. It was unfortunate for her that rough sex was exactly what she looked for in the bedroom.

As she was used, his fingers reaching as deep as they could inside her before twisting around, her eyes rolled back, and it took all the strength she had inside her to not let out a moan of pleasure. He was so different from his usual self, far more dominant and demanding, and his jokes had been replaced with silence. Her behind was bruised, she was sure. And though pretty much everything below her stomach and above her legs hurt like hell, with the fortunate exception of her tight pucker, she had to give him credit where it was due; he knew his way around her. They had never... slept together before, at least that she could remember, and yet he was pushing all of her buttons as if he knew where they were, twisting his fingers at just the right angle while his thumb dropped not to press against her clit but to encircle it, teasing the nub while her hole was used thoroughly.

She grew closer and closer to an orgasm that she didn't want. Her hands grasped the bed sheets tightly and she threw her head forward, burying it against pillow in front of her. She let out a cry of pleasure against the pillow's fabric, and rolled her hips back against his hand. Rather than teasing her, he pushed his thumb down against her clit, ending the teasing motion with a hard flick against the sensitive nub. Her dam broke, and her back arched, pleasure filling her mind while her body spasmed, cunt gushing against his leg and the bed. She'd made a mess, and she was going to be punished for it, but if this is what punishments felt like then perhaps they weren't so bad.

When she was finished, he pushed her from his lap, and she rolled onto the bed, on her back. He moved to his feet and pulled off his pants, before glancing over her. Shaking his head, he sighed. "You made a real fuckin' mess..."

"I can't help it if you're good with your fingers," she replied, noticing after the fact that her attempt at sass was also a compliment. Her cheeks flushed.

Moving over the bed again, he reached his hand between her legs and yanked off her underwear. The fabric was a mess, stained with her juices. He lifted them to his nose and took a whiff, before placing them against her face, covering up her mouth and nose; if she wanted to breathe, she'd have to do it through the smog of her own scent. There was no mercy, she realised, and she was paying for having the gall to sass him despite the favour he'd just done for her. Perhaps he was her master; perhaps he'd earned that title. A shiver of pleasure ran through her at the thought, and the idea that she was breathing her own scent didn't seem to bother her so much.

Before she knew it, he was on the bed with her, and having discarded his clothes, was sat between her legs. She wrapped them around him almost instinctively, her thoughts hazed by the scent filling her nose. Eventually, he yanked her underwear away only to press his lips to hers, giving her a passionate kiss that she felt obliged to return after a few moments of thought. She felt his length pressing against her inner thigh, so close to her quim that one slip in the wrong direction could have him buried inside her; a part of her wanted him to make that mistake, she wanted him to have sex with her. That was what he was here for, wasn't it? To use her? To fuck her good? To fuck her like the whore she was? She shivered, and then his cock pressed up against her... before dropping lower.

Instead of pressing up against her cunt, he pushed the head of his cock over towards her ass, previously untouched by him. Her eyes widened while he continued to kiss her, and she continued to kiss him despite the worry. She didn't try to stop him. Perhaps she knew it was futile. Laid there on the bed, dressed in whore's clothing, her biggest rival atop her, Ashe accepted Jesse McCree's cock inside her ass. She hadn't distanced herself from the reality of the situation, she knew exactly what was going on, but she couldn't resist it; she didn't want to anymore. She hated the idea that one orgasm had turned her docile, but it wasn't just her orgasm. Everything about him right then demanded attention, he bled charisma and attractiveness. She wanted him, even if she hadn't known it for the longest time. She was his to use.

And being used hurt.

Taking his cock's head into her behind was not an easy feat. He went in dry, without even her saliva to aide him, and for a moment Ashe thought that her poor asshole might be tearing open. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, though Jesse seemed to notice this, and reached a hand up to wipe them away. He didn't pull away from their kiss, instead pushing his tongue against her lips, and when she opened those, her closed teeth, and when she parted those, straight against her own tongue. If it was a battle for dominance, she was losing, barely even paying attention to her own movements as she enjoyed the feeling of being fully dominated. He was almost all the way inside her ass now, the tearing sensation remaining, though it seemed to go away as he bottomed out inside her. It still hurt, but there was pleasure to be found; she didn't even know she could feel as deep as he was, and yet the tip of his cock continued spreading her open, seemingly all the way to her stomach, though even she knew how unrealistic that was.

Realism held little weight inside her mind. She believed whatever she needed to believe to move towards her next orgasm. "Use me," she moaned against him, her words once again becoming little more than mumbles against his lips. His tongue was far too deep in her mouth for her to be able to form proper words or sounds. He picked up the pace, his hips slamming against her behind with each thrust, and his cock felt hot inside her. She melted underneath him, pleasure coursing through her body a second time; she could feel her cunt twitching, pulsating against his sternum without anything inside, without even being touched. She was having her first anal-only orgasm — popular amongst the whores, wasn't it? That's all that she was now.

A final thrust had him buried inside her, and then he pulled away from their kiss to let out a large moan. Ashe was left to stare not at his face but at the ceiling as her butt was filled with his load, rope after rope of warm cum spewing deep inside her, until her bowels felt practically full with the stuff. She recalled the rates she'd been given.

"...hah... hah... cumming inside is extra. And uh... if you're in my ass, and... you finished... inside, that's... ah, fuck it." She gave up trying to do the math, and collapsed back against the bed. Jesse pulled himself out of her and then wiped his cock on the bedsheet, before moving to his feet and getting dressed. No time for cuddling, though people didn't often cuddle with whores. Ashe continued looking at the ceiling, a hint of guilt washing over her for losing herself so easily.

"This was fun... I imagine I'll be around again sometime. Maybe I'll bring a friend or two," Jesse remarked, not being entirely serious. He followed his words with a chuckle.

"Alright," Ashe replied, weakly, to his surprise, though he guessed that he had overwhelmed her. She'd probably agree to anything in the state she was in. He didn't take advantage of her, though, fun as it may have been to do so. Instead, he left, without saying another word. Ashe was left to her thoughts.

For their part, they weren't as dark as they had been earlier. In whoring herself out to Jesse, it seemed that Ashe had accepted her fate. She glanced towards the door, wondering who might walk through it next, though one thing was for sure: no matter who it was, she would be able to take it. There was no way that she would hate fucking anybody more than Jesse McCree.


End file.
